Insatiable

Warning(s): Blood sucking (both consensual and...not so consensual). Exactly what it says on the tin. There's also inexplicit sexual content in this chapter. I'm really stretching this 'T' rating, guys. ;)

Disclaimer: Don't own Code Geass. Forgot to put that for the first chapter. Bleh.

AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews, guys! I'm glad you all find this interesting so far. Also, no, I don't write at an incredible speed. This chapter has been written for awhile. I was going to post it on Friday, but I'm an impatient person. What do I have to say about this chapter? It's weird. Really weird. You'll see why.

She's ubiquitous. There's no other way to describe it. During a meeting with the Black Knights, she will slip her hand underneath the table and pull off his gloves, running her fingers along the path of veins on his forearm, pressing against his pulse.

At school, he sees red dots splattering the air. He blinks, and they disappear. One day, he drifts off in class and dreams of being flooded by blood. The stuff pours into his nostrils and flows down his throat until he is suffocating as his vision reddens. Suddenly, he awakes with a start, and a couple kids laugh. The teacher hands him a test and tells him she hopes he studied. He sets the curve.

Tamaki calls him for some inane reason, and she straddles him, her mouth hot against his throat. Tell that vulgar man I'm not your mistress, she says before biting down on his neck. He drops his cell phone instead.

At night, she slips underneath his sheets and presses her cold hands against his skin. He stifles a shiver and stays mute as she feeds. It's usually brief. One time, however, she latches on like a parasite and sucks with fervor, gulping down blood like a thirsty dog. He thrashes and tries to throw her off, but she keeps him pinned, knocking back his blood as the seconds tick by. He wonders if this is it. If he is going to die. But then she pulls back with a wet, smacking sound, and it's over. At least for tonight.

In the morning, he wakes up and sees red. Tiny flecks dot his arms. He sits up and pulls back the covers, and there's a long red streak on his bedspread.

She comes up from behind while he's scrubbing his bloodstained comforter over the sink. He does the laundry regularly, but he's never had to wash anything of his own by hand. Nunnally occasionally spills things on herself, but it's never her fault.

"It looks like you've finally become a woman, Lelouch," C.C. says blandly, hovering over the sink.

Lelouch grits his teeth and scrubs harder. He knows better than to indulge her. Better than to respond but…"It looks you never learned table manners, leech. How old are you?"

C.C. doesn't respond and so Lelouch continues scrubbing. Half the stain is gone now, and he feels a slight sense of victory. C.C. can't leave a permanent mark. Not on him and not on his coverlet.

"It's rude to ask a lady her age."

There's something about her tone that makes Lelouch look up. C.C.'s eyes are narrowed, and she swipes her tongue along her upper lip. Lelouch goes rigid.

Of course he has to pay for his rudeness.

Wednesday is cross-country day for gym. The less physically fit students dubbed it cross-hell day. It involves running laps around Ashford's field until the period ends.

Lelouch had never partaken in a cross-hell day, and he planned not to until one day Suzaku begs and pleads and offers to buy him ice cream as an incentive.

"It's for your own good," Suzaku asserts, eyes wide and animated. "Shirley's right. If you never exercise, then you're bound to fail your fitness exam."

Lelouch tells Suzaku to butt out. He tells him to leave him alone. Shut up. Stop being an idiot. Somehow he still ends up on Ashford's field on a frigid Wednesday morning wearing nothing but his ridiculous collared shirt and spandex shorts. Suzaku and Shirley are both smiling at him, but he pretends not to notice and instead stares at the gray, overcast sky.

When the gym teacher blows the whistle, it feels like his joints have locked up. He stumbles forward as other students sprint ahead of him. Suzaku is already leading the pack. Shirley is close behind.

Lelouch inhales gulps of air and forces his legs to keep moving. Because of the rain, Ashford's lush, grassy field has transformed into a mud pit, and he can hear his sneakers making a sickening squish squash noise with every step. The second to last runner is already several meters ahead of him, and Lelouch grits his teeth. Although he has resigned himself to being in he back of the pack, he can't stop now. He has to go on.

Three-quarters into the first lap, and he's already huffing and puffing, sweat rolling down his cheeks and arms and back. His lungs feel bereft of oxygen. He feels light-headed, like he has to inhale faster and faster to get enough air.

The promise of ice cream isn't worth this.

"Lelouch!"

Lelouch looks up to see Suzaku running past him, strides long and effortless and powerful. He shoots Lelouch an easy smile and shouts, "Keep it up!" before sprinting ahead.

Lelouch wants to make a retort, but it takes too much effort to form words. Besides, even if he tries, it will most likely come out as a feeble rasp. He miserably watches as Suzaku rounds a corner, already a good hundred meters ahead of him.

About fifteen seconds later, Shirley runs up beside him. Her running form isn't nearly as graceful as Suzaku's, but it does not look very strenuous for her either.

"Lulu, are you okay?" she asks, slowing down to jog beside him. She looks extraordinarily concerned, and Lelouch wonders what shape he must be in to warrant such concern.

Rather than respond verbally, Lelouch nods. Words cost precious air, after all. Shirley gives him a (concerned) smile and runs past him. Her ponytail bounces cheerfully after her, like a friendly wave. Lelouch does not even know if he has the strength to wave.

Okay, he has just been lapped. By two people. Not the end of the world. Just needs to keep moving. Lelouch continues to run even as his chest tightens and his lungs ache. He feels even more light-headed than before, but that's okay. Running doesn't really require thinking.

Then he falls. Either he trips or his legs collapse under him. Probably the latter. Lelouch blinks and gazes up at the dreary sky, dully listening to the stampede of several people running past him. He thinks about just staying there, kneeling on the muddy grass and staring at the ugly sky, but then he hears his name being called by someone. That's his cue to get up. Keep running. Using most of his strength, he pushes himself off the ground. He feels woozy and wobbly. There are grass stains on the palms of his hands, and muck is streaked across his thighs and calves. He barely registers it.

He begins to move his legs again even though they feel like lead. His lungs were burning before, but now they are an inferno. When Lelouch hears a squish squash from behind him, it's Suzaku running past again. That's the moment Lelouch's legs give out again, but this time he falls on his face. The mud feels nice, though. Cool and soothing. In fact, he feels slightly resentful when someone turns him over.

He blinks and makes out wobbly forms and two pairs of green eyes. Is he seeing double? Doesn't matter. He shuts his eyes.

When Lelouch regains consciousness, he groans. It smells like antiseptic and blossoms.

"He…he's awake!"

Is that…Shirley's voice? His eyes snap open, and he's greeted to the beige-colored walls of Ashford's infirmary. He's no stranger to this place. The few times he attends gym class usually result in a pulled muscle or sprained ankle.

He grunts and sits up in bed, surveying his surroundings. Around the room, there are various flowers in vases. Enough to fill a florist's shop. There's also an abundance of balloons with shiny surfaces that read things like "FEEL BETTER SOON" in big, blocky letters. One would think he is terminally ill.

"About time, buddy. We were starting to get a little worried."

He turns toward the voice, and there is the entire student council by his bedside with the exception of Suzaku. Nunnally sits the closest to him, her little face creased with worry. Shirley also looks rather fretful, biting her lip with wide eyes fixed on him. Milly and Rivalz wear wide, relieved grins. Kallen and Nina's expressions are somewhere in between.

"Suzaku had to go back to base, but he carried you all the way here," Milly says, voice cheery and bright. "I'm sure he'll be relieved to know you're doing well."

Oh. Lelouch frowns. That's right. He fainted. During gym.

(Because of her).

Rivalz snorts. "If you ask me, it's a good thing he's not here." Shirley and Milly send him pointed looks, and he raises his eyebrows. "What? He might have started bawling out of happiness."

"He didn't bawl, Rivalz," Shirley snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. "And it's a good thing he's willing to show his emotions to us. It's sweet."

"Speaking of sweet," Milly says, smile turning mischievous, "look what Shirley got her precious Lulu~"

From behind her back, Milly pulls out a hot pink teddy bear holding a felt heart to its chest. Shirley's face immediately reddens.

"Milly!"

"She was even thinking about getting it monogrammed!"

"W-was not! Give that back!"

Milly laughs and laughs, and Shirley struggles to rip the incriminating teddy bear from her hands. In the process, she manages to trip over her own two feet and knock over three vases at once. Kallen manages to catch one, but the other two fall and shatter, spilling water, frosted glass, and sunflowers all over the floor.

Lelouch blearily watches the ensuing mayhem, feeling fuzzy and enervated. There's a dull ache at the back of his head, and his legs feel like concrete. Nunnally is still frowning, and there's a furrow between her eyebrows. She's usually amused by the student council's antics, but, apparently, not even this mêlée over a teddy bear can cheer her up.

Lelouch reaches out and wordlessly smoothes out the furrow with his thumb. She smiles, but it's not big and brilliant. It's melancholic. Pensive. Right now she looks much older than her fourteen years.

The school nurse gives Lelouch pills and tells him to come back if he feels faint. Lelouch smiles and thanks her, and he thinks that's the end of it until she takes out a clipboard.

"One last thing, Mr. Lamperouge," she says, eyebrows furrowing as she scribbles something down. "I ran some tests on you, and it seems your body's blood supply is rather low. Did you donate blood recently? If so, it would be advisable that you don't engage in arduous physical activity for the next few days." She glances up then, face friendly and accommodating. She doesn't suspect anything. But still…

"No, I didn't," Lelouch says, still smiling. The nurse's brittle barriers cave in. "…And you don't think so either."

"Oh, yes," the nurse says. Her eyes widen, and her mouth curves into a lopsided beam. "Of course. How silly of me."

How silly, indeed. Lelouch returns to his room and is not at all surprised to find C.C. reclining on his bed, arms and legs splayed out. He is, however, surprised by her words.

"I suppose this means I'll have to abstain from you for awhile."

Lelouch blinks. "…What?"

C.C. sits up in bed and rolls her shoulders. Her movements are reminiscent of a lazy cat, although Lelouch now knows better than to think of her as sluggish. "It wouldn't benefit either of us if I killed you, would it?"

Lelouch steps forward and frowns. "How did you…"

"News travels fast," she says. When Lelouch continues to stare at her blankly, she shrugs. "I wasn't aware you were something of a celebrity here. I could hear some girls outside the window fretting over their weakling of a vice president."

Lelouch raises an eyebrow. "Look who's being careless now."

"Careless?" C.C. asks, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't die, did you?" She suddenly stands up, and it's very reminiscent of the way she moved before she sucked his blood for the first time. Lelouch instinctually lurches back, but C.C. grabs him by the sleeve. "Besides, I told you I'd desist."

"Desist," Lelouch repeats, feeling trapped. But he can't back down. He stares into her eyes, and she holds his gaze.

"Temporarily," she murmurs before descending on his neck.

But she does not draw blood. His breath catches in his throat as her teeth graze against the skin covering his Adam's apple, and Lelouch knows she must be smirking. Even if it's small, it's there, satisfied and inimitable.

The teeth disappear. Then tongue. It slides along his jaw line, past his chin, and then it stops at a spot on his neck. Pulse point. Lelouch shivers.

C.C. pulls back and licks her wan lips. "Let's see how long I last."

Outside, the storm roars. The lightning crackles. C.C. is sopping wet because she felt the need to feed during a downpour (snagged an equestrian club boy headed back from the stables), but she does not bother to towel dry herself. When Lelouch mentions this, she says she doesn't get cold because she's cold enough already as it is. But thanks for the concern. Lelouch grits his teeth when her ass leaves watermarks on his couch and bed.

She pads over to the bathroom, and Lelouch clings to the overly sanguine idea that she's actually taking his "drying off" suggestion. But no. When he follows her inside, water continues to cascade down her pale thighs and calves, creating pools on the tile floor. She's staring in the mirror, touching her cheeks with her fingertips, expression inscrutable as always.

"They look like tears," she says softly.

He has no idea what she's talking about until one runs down her jaw and drips onto the hollow of her throat. The water droplets. Lelouch raises his eyebrows. He never thought of C.C. as human, but she must have been. Perhaps she's having a wave of nostalgia.

"You can't cry, can you?"

C.C. doesn't look at him. Doesn't even bother to look at his reflection. "I used to," she says. She presses harder against her face, and the droplets continue to descend. "I also used to blush."

Lelouch tries to imagine this. C.C. crying, sobs wracking her body, face ruddy and wet. C.C. blushing, laughing so hard her belly aches. Or flushing, mouth gasping and body arching. The expressions seem so strange. Almost cartoonish. "That's hard to believe," he blurts out before he can think better of it.

If C.C. is offended, she does not show it. She continues to trace her face for a while until she suddenly flicks the droplets off her cheeks. She exits the bathroom. The tile floor has transformed into a lagoon. Lelouch sighs and gets the mop.

Shirley, on the other hand, cries genuine tears.

He knows this even if he can't tell the real from the rain. Her eyes, usually bright and animated, hold such sorrow and misfortune. She shakes, and he is certain it is not from the cold.

"Why did Zero kill my father?" Her voice trembles with her body. "Why did he have to die? I…I don't want this."

Lelouch has no words. The umbrella drops, and then her cold, wet body presses against his, seeking comfort and consolation.

He holds her, kisses her, and feels sick to his stomach.

The rain continues to pitter and patter. Lelouch's phone buzzes, but he does not answer it. C.C. rolls over on his bed, and he knows she's going to speak. That infuriating leech.

"So you finally realized that war kills people," she says, not even bothering to mask her tone of amusement. "It took you long enough."

Lelouch grits his teeth. "C.C…."

"And it really just took one grief-stricken girl to snap it all into perspective. How pathetic." C.C. stands up and walks toward him, the ends of her straitjacket brushing against the floor. "You've been killing people left and right. Feeding me the leftovers. Did you really not realize what you were doing?"

"Shut up!"

C.C. places a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches. "I just thought you would know by now what you had gotten yourself into. That's all."

Lelouch inhales sharply and shifts on the couch, but he does not turn around to look at her. "Of course I know," he hisses, eyes narrowing. "I've always known."

C.C. makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh and leans closer. Her hair falls over his shoulder, and her nose presses against his neck. A second later he feels the graze of teeth. "Then why the uncertainty?" The teeth press harder. "I thought the great Zero never wavered."

Lelouch grabs the fabric of the couch and clenches it in his fists. He doesn't want to think about this. Doesn't want to answer. The teeth press even harder, and he diverts. "…What was that about abstinence?"

A puff of air against his neck. "Fine. I'll abstain." She withdraws, but Lelouch does not exhale. C.C.'s eyes are locked on his, and her expression is darker than he's ever seen it. "…Just don't disappoint me."

He leaves. He can't take it. He gets in the shower and turns it on searing hot, hoping it will drown out of thoughts. But they continue to clash in his head, and he sees images: his father, Euphie, Suzaku, Ougi, Kallen, Clovis, C.C., and…Nunnally. Her gentle smile. Her kind face.

Lelouch knows what he has to do.

Suzaku killed his father. As a result, he became an entirely different person. Different set of morals. A different philosophy. All this time he has been seeking atonement through some sort of oblique suicide.

Nunnally does not know this. She treats Suzaku just the same, giggling at his dumb jokes and chatting with him about whatever crosses her mind. If anything, she's even fonder of him than before because of his role in saving her life.

However, Lelouch doubts that she would treat Suzaku differently if she knew. Lelouch is happy with this. He doesn't want anything to change, and he wants Suzaku to know that they care about him unconditionally. Regardless of his past.

That's why he invites Suzaku to dinner after the incident with Mao. He wants them to all feel like family.

Unfortunately, Suzaku hesitates. "I appreciate the offer, Lelouch, but I, uh…"

Lelouch smiles easily. "The engineering department can't be cutting into your free time too much, can it?"

Suzaku opens his mouth as if to argue that point, but then he shuts it and shakes his head. Lelouch raises an eyebrow. He wonders what caused this change in heart. "I…no." Suzaku smiles. "Well, I'll see you then. Thank you for inviting me."

Lelouch smiles back as well. Everything is back to normal. Nothing about their relationship has changed. He walks back to the clubhouse in high spirits.

"I'm hungry," C.C. complains as soon as he enters his room.

Of course. Lelouch's smile fades, but he begins to unbutton his tunic. It's when he begins to unbutton his undershirt that C.C. speaks again.

"Not for you."

Lelouch looks up and frowns. C.C. is lying on his bed, which isn't unusual, but there is something about the way her body drapes over the side that signals a lack of vitality. Her face is also more pallid than usual.

"You don't look well."

C.C. burrows her face into a pillow, but Lelouch is still able to make out her muffled voice. "Do you want to know one of the reasons why I left Mao?"

"That's a non sequitur." When C.C. doesn't respond, he continues. "I couldn't care less about that man now that I know he's dead."

"It isn't." C.C. lifts her head up, and even her hair looks limp. "I left him because he was unable to feed me properly."

"Couldn't bring you enough bodies?"

C.C. shakes her head. "No, he killed many people." She locks eyes with Lelouch. "He was devious. You should know that by now."

"Then why…?"

"That's not how it works. Quality comes before quantity." C.C. smiles, and there's something vaguely melancholic about it. "I became Mao's entire world. No one else mattered to him. He had no friends. No family. When his power overtook him, I was the only person he could stand to be around."

"Yes. Your point?"

C.C.'s smile widens. "He was the only one who tasted good to me."

Lelouch nods, unsurprised. From C.C.'s roundabout comments, he had already formed this hypothesis. Now he's just having it confirmed. "So Kallen…"

"Not wonderful," C.C. says, "but better than most. There are really only two people…"

Lelouch's eyes widen at the sudden image of Nunnally, alone and defenseless. She smiles her sweet, kind smile, and C.C. licks her lips and then descends, mouth open, teeth bared…"You're not touching a hair on Nunnally's head!"

C.C. smirks. "I knew you'd object to that." She sits up and stretches languorously. "I was actually thinking Suzaku."

Lelouch blinks. "…What?"

"I want to suck him. To be honest, I've been wanting to since Shinjuku," C.C. deadpans.

The double entendre does not go past Lelouch, but he manages to restrain a blush. That leech can be so…vulgar. "N-no. Forget it."

C.C. does not look all that surprised by his answer. "Is it because he's your friend?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Shirley's your friend, and what you did to her was much more permanent."

The fact that she can even compare this with…that makes Lelouch's blood boil. The circumstances are nothing alike! "That's different, and you know it! That wasn't some sort of—"

"Whim?" C.C. interjects. "This isn't just for my sake, you know."

Lelouch's eyebrows knit together. "…What do you mean?"

C.C. shrugs. "You get a do over. If you wish, you can reveal yourself as Zero. In the beginning, when you tried to get Suzaku to switch sides, he rejected you." Lelouch flinches at that, but C.C. merely continues, unmoved. "But he was only rejecting Zero. He doesn't know that his childhood friend is the man behind the mask."

And, although C.C. has her own selfish reasons for offering this deal, Lelouch finds himself considering it. He can talk to Suzaku. Try to reason with him. But still, so much has changed. "I doubt it," Lelouch finally says. "He seems adamant about his way of thinking. His ideology completely changed after he killed the prime minister."

"That doesn't matter. There are no repercussions. If Suzaku doesn't change his mind, then I can erase his memories. If he does, then you have a friend on your side."

And perhaps that sort of thing might have been possible the night Lelouch rescued Suzaku from execution. Before Zero had actually done anything deemed "wrong." But now? No way. Lelouch shakes his head. "That might have worked in the beginning, but after everything…"

"Are you scared? Is that it?" C.C.'s expression isn't unfathomable like usual. It's cocky and self-assured. And it infuriates Lelouch.

"No," Lelouch snaps. "Of course not."

"You fear confrontation," C.C. continues. "You're afraid of what he'll say."

"No, I…"

"You told Kirihara you were willing to embark on the path of blood, but you can't even do this?"

That hits home. Lelouch grits his teeth. "Fine. I'll tell him, but you have to be there when I do it tonight." He walks toward her and straightens his back, so he looms over her. "And only just this once."

"Alright," C.C. says, eyes brightening. "Just tell me when to make my entrance."

Lelouch arranges a play date for Nunnally at the last minute. Sayoko is to accompany her. When Nunnally asks why he arranged for her to meet up with a friend when she's capable of doing that on her own, he trips over his tongue and stammers out that it's good to spend time with friends every now and then.

But Nunnally isn't stupid. "It's because you want to get rid of me, isn't it?" She's smiling, no hint of accusation in her voice, but Lelouch still feels guilty. There's no use trying to hide it.

"I'm sorry, Nunnally," he says, placing his hand over hers. "It…it's just for tonight. There's something important I need to get done."

Nunnally nods, but her smile is rickety. Lelouch bids her and Sayoko farewell, feeling as if an insect is crawling up his throat. Little antennae brushing against his trachea. It's even worse when Suzaku arrives.

It's worse because he finally realizes what he's doing. He realizes how senseless this is. With Kallen, it was different. It was necessary. If she had put two and two together and come to the conclusion that he was Zero, then his plans could have gone to shambles. It's not like that with Suzaku. He's not doing this because he needs to; he's doing it because he wants to.

"Where are Nunnally and Sayoko?" Suzaku asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I brought Nunnally flowers. I know she likes the smell." He holds out a bouquet of yellow and pink roses.

Somehow Lelouch manages to swallow the insect. "It turns out Nunnally had other plans." He smiles amiably, cocking his head to the side. "Are you that disappointed it's just the two of us?" he teases.

"No. Of course not." Suzaku grins. "I always enjoy spending time with you."

Maybe not after tonight, Lelouch's mind supplies, but Lelouch shakes himself of that thought. No, C.C. will erase Suzaku's memory if things go awry. She had promised.

Lelouch puts the flowers in a vase and feeds Suzaku a large dinner complete with salad, biscuits, and enough pasta to feed a small country. When Suzaku takes seconds, Lelouch has the sickening thought that he's fattening up Suzaku for some sort of sacrificial ritual, and he loses most of his appetite.

Afterward, they play chess. Multiple times. Lelouch knows he's stalling, but he can't bring himself to breech the subject as he beats Suzaku game after game.

Finally, after putting Suzaku in check for the umpteenth time, it's Suzaku who takes the initiative. "Not that this isn't fun, Lelouch," Suzaku says, smiling sheepishly, "but don't you think beating me five thousand times is enough?"

Lelouch sighs and touches his queen, running his fingers along her stem. "I'm sorry," he says softly, gazing at the sea of black on the chessboard (only Suzaku's white knight remains). "There's just…something I want to talk to you about."

He looks up, but Suzaku does not meet his gaze. "Oh," Suzaku says quietly. "It's about…" He makes eye contact with Lelouch, his face the quintessence of abject shame "Isn't it?"

Lelouch's eyes widen, and the words come out in a rush. "No! Of course not. The past is the past, Suzaku. I'm just grateful that you saved Nunnally. If…if it weren't for you…" He trails off, unable to finish. Luckily, Suzaku understands. His face is awash with relief, and the corners of his mouth turn up just a little.

"Is it about Shirley?"

…That is completely out of left field. "What?"

"Um." Suzaku scratches the back of his neck. "Milly told me that you and Shirley got into some sort of big fight, and now you're pretending to be strangers." His expression turns earnest. "I know she liked you a lot, Lelouch, and if there's anything I can do to help patch things up—"

Lelouch cuts him off. "No, it's not that at all. It's…" It's now or never, and she promised. Promised to be there at his beck and call.

(And she would never ever balk at the possibility of blood).

"There's someone I want you to meet," Lelouch says, practically spitting out the words. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he wonders if she hears it, relishes it. "Her name is C.C."

Sure enough, C.C. makes an entrance, walking out of the kitchen as soon as Lelouch says her name as if she is some sort of doll that needs a button pushed in order to perform. And a doll is a befitting comparison because she is detached and vibrant. Her lips are painted red, and her golden eyes are glassy. She's wearing some sort of gothic Lolita get-up, and Lelouch wants to scream because he thought it would go unsaid that she would wear her original outfit so Suzaku could immediately recognize her…

"You're the girl from Shinjuku!" Suzaku shouts, standing up, eyes wide and protuberant and alarmed. "And…and I saw you at Narita!"

Well, that took no time. Lelouch had expected shock, disbelief, maybe even Suzaku attempting to convince himself that C.C. was a mirage or a doppelganger or a practical joke.

And…Narita? How can that have been? Suzaku had said he was in the engineering department. There would have been no reason for him to be there unless…

"How observant," C.C. says tonelessly, and she plops down right on the settee Lelouch is currently sitting on. Although she appears outwardly bored, there's a slight anxiousness about her body, as if she's confining her movements.

Suzaku's movements, on the other hand, are unconfined. Tremors run through his body, and he points a finger at C.C. "I…I saw you with—"

Zero," Lelouch murmurs. His mind is howling because Suzaku is the pilot Suzaku is the pilot and they were supposed to be together and Suzaku was supposed to protect Nunnally and Lelouch was supposed to protect Suzaku and this isn't supposed to happenthisisn'tsupposedtobehappening.

But Lelouch's voice is very, very calm as he speaks. Flat and deadpan. "You pilot that white knightmare," he says, looking Suzaku straight in the eye. "Why did you lie?"

Suzaku shoots Lelouch a look of disbelief. "Why did I lie?" He shakes his head. "Lelouch, what the hell is going on? Are you an ally of the Black Knights?"

"More than that."

The injury in Suzaku's eyes is palpable. "…You are one."

"Yes," Lelouch says, voice soft yet firm. "I'm Zero."

Suzaku breaks at that. He was at the precipice, and now he is smithereens. The look of injury is replaced with a blank stare. He falls back on the settee and covers his face with his hands. "You…no…"

Lelouch could move forward and comfort him, but he does not. He talks as if giving a discourse. "When I saved you from your execution, I called you a fool, and you said I reminded you of an old friend." Suzaku shakes. "When we first met seven years ago, I told you I would destroy Britannia. This really isn't as much of a surprise as it should be."

When Suzaku uncovers his face, his eyes are red and waterlogged. "You're unbelievable," he hisses.

Suzaku's tear-stained face takes Lelouch aback, so he masks his discomfort with a laugh. "You're going to have be more specific, Suzaku," he says, and there's malice in his voice. "Is it the fact that I'm actually putting my plans into action? Going against this worthless country? The reality that I'm actually making a difference?"

"But you're not!" Suzaku shouts, standing up again, his hands clenching into fists. His nostrils are flared, and his mouth twists into a horrible scowl. "Results obtained through such tactics are meaningless! What you're doing is cowardly!"

Lelouch stands up too, snarling. "And what you're doing isn't? Hiding behind Britannia and forsaking your own people just because they're weaker!"

"That has nothing to do with it! Britannia can be changed from within! Nothing good comes from this sort of rebellion."

Lelouch shakes his head. "Do you even listen to yourself? What gives Britannia the right to conquer countries? Are you saying the Japanese people should just take it?"

"You're twisting my words!" Suzaku grabs Lelouch by the collar and holds him like a rag doll; Lelouch doesn't even flinch. "It's just the way you're doing things…"

"Waging war means I have to fight and kill my enemy combatants. It's not as if I've involved civilians."

"What about Shirley's father?" Suzaku demands, his grip tightening. "What did he ever do? It's because of the Black Knights that he died from that landslide at Narita."

Lelouch had prepared himself for that blow, so he's able to smile easily. "War involves unexpected casualties. It's not any different from Britannian soldiers opening fire on unarmed Japanese," he says, his smile broadening. "While I regret what happened to Shirley's father, I do not regret my actions."

"You're disgusting," Suzaku's mutters, his face an amalgamation of emotions: grief, anger, betrayal, and something else that Lelouch cannot place.

But Lelouch is able to look past Suzaku's overt misery, compartmentalize it. It's nothing more than a reaction, and Lelouch must plow forward. "This has nothing to do with me," Lelouch says, and he can feel his smile stretching so far that his cheeks may crack. His face may splinter and shatter. "No, Suzaku, this has everything to do with you. I understand it. It's because you killed your father. That's why you grovel at the feet of the Britannian Empire. You're just too pathetic to face up to what you've done." The final strike.

When Suzaku brings his fist back, Lelouch is not surprised. He shuts his eyes and awaits the blow. Anticipates it even.

It never comes.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to punch you sooner."

Lelouch opens his eyes, and there is no angry, wounded boy in front of him. The eyes that gaze back are gentle and green, like a calm sea. Suzaku's face is placid and tranquil, and he wears a dopey, lopsided smile.

There's blood trickling down Suzaku's neck, but he doesn't notice. He gazes at Lelouch fondly as if he can gaze at him for all eternity. He doesn't even budge when the blood is licked off him.

Lelouch expected C.C. to regard Suzaku as if he was the most succulent thing imaginable, but she does not. Her expression is inquisitive, eerily tender, and, when she places a hand on Suzaku's wrist, the gesture is oddly gentle.

C.C. does not say a word to Lelouch. Instead, she leads Suzaku away like he's a child (or a zombie or someone lobotomized), and he follows eagerly, turning his affectionate gaze away from Lelouch.

Lelouch follows them. They end up in his bedroom. The lights are on, and Lelouch wishes C.C. would turn them off. The pitch-blackness could envelope him like a blanket, and he could try to make his thoughts go blank. But no, everything is bright and recognizable, and the light hits Suzaku's face head-on.

C.C. props Suzaku up against the side of the bed like a dummy and kneels beside him, beginning to unbutton his tunic. Then his shirt. Lelouch can't tear his eyes away, but he wishes he had when he sees the lattice of yellow, purple, red, and blue that mars Suzaku's skin. More unbuttoning. The bruises stretch far. C.C. brushes her fingers against them, but Suzaku's smile does not waver. It's wide and guileless, and it twists Lelouch's gut.

Suddenly, C.C. bites into Suzaku, and Lelouch should be prepared. He should be prepared because this is the deal, but he has to swallow back vomit. C.C. never was a quiet feeder, and Lelouch wants to press his hands against his ears, but they will not move from his sides. He wants to look away, but Suzaku meets his gaze and just stares at him with such unadulterated warmth.

"Despair," C.C. says, lifting her head. The tips of her hair are died red. Drops stain her skirt. It fills her mouth. "You want a taste?"

Before Lelouch can respond, C.C. crosses the distance between him and kisses him and no. No. Suzaku's blood is in his mouth. It's staining his lips and teeth and tongue, and Lelouch gasps and tries to spit it out. But it's no use. C.C. kisses him harder, forcing him to swallow it until all he can taste is iron and bitterness.

And then Lelouch is kissing back because it's easier than pulling away. It's not about proving a point or getting revenge. He just doesn't want to look back. Not now when it's easier to move his tongue against hers and press against her body and grind against her thighs. And she doesn't protest when he pins her to the floor and moves against her because it's easier than thinking or comprehending. He only pulls back to catch snatches of air, and then he's back to it, rubbing against her legs and not looking at her face.

(Because there may be tears and snot on her cheeks, but they won't be hers. Never hers.)

It only stops when Lelouch peaks, whimpers, and goes very, very still. He wheezes and realizes he holds ruffles in one fist and a garter in another. Everything snaps into focus then. C.C. lies beneath him, outfit rumpled and make-up streaked. Suzaku sits across from him, shirt unbuttoned, smiling genially with a blood-splattered face and neck. And Lelouch is on his knees, trembling in semen-stained pants.

"You have four minutes," C.C. says.

When Suzaku awakes, he looks confused and disoriented as he turns this way and that, trying to place his surroundings.

"You're in my room, Suzaku," Lelouch says, fond exasperation seeping into his voice. "In my bed."

The look of alarm in Suzaku's eyes would have been comical. "What?" Suzaku peels back the comforter. "Why?"

Lelouch chuckles and sets down the novel he was reading. "I had no idea your work took so much out of you." He stands up from his seat situated from across the bed. "When I offered that you could spend the night, you practically collapsed on my bed."

Almost instantaneously, Suzaku is out of the bed, standing ramrod straight, patting down his hair. "I apologize, Lelouch," he says, flushing in embarrassment. "I shouldn't take advantage of you like this."

Lelouch snorts. "Take advantage of me? Suzaku, you're welcome here whenever you wish. I don't mind at all."

Suzaku smiles in relief, but his cheeks are still tinged pink. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Suddenly, his expression turns thoughtful, considering, and Lelouch feels his blood run cold.

"…What is it?"

"It's…nothing," Suzaku says, giving a sheepish shake of his head. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Lelouch persists.

"Just…" Suzaku sighs. "Just how much you've changed in these seven years."

A silence stretches, and Suzaku stares at his hands. Lelouch stares straight ahead, feeling numb.

"…You've changed the most, though."

The sorrow in Suzaku's eyes is truly something to behold.

Lelouch is glad when Suzaku says he can't spend the night and leaves with an uneasy smile but no questions. He isn't glad that C.C. comes out of hiding as soon as the door is locked.

"At least some good came from this," she says softly. Even with the mess of makeup and blood on her face, Lelouch is still able to catch her look of concern. "You now know who you're up against."

He knows things have gone off the deep end when the leech starts showing empathy. Tries to reassure him. It's the true embodiment of hopelessness.

"Yes," Lelouch mutters, trying to ignore the cracks in his voice. "If he dies in battle, then his blood will be on my hands and no one else's."

"Ignorance isn't bliss, Lelouch," she whispers, and she isn't even trying to hide her revolting, repulsive, disgusting sympathy when she places her hand on his. "At least not in your case."

Lelouch doesn't answer. His body shakes, and his lips tremble. Hands quiver. Eyes widen.

C.C. nearly looks disturbed when he lets loose a peal of laughter.